It was a maintenance panel for the on-board computer. Only four lights flickered and the back-up display revealed a huge data transfer pouring into the computer memory banks, and it looked like Inanias was trying to interpret the unending mass of information. Normally this sort of transfer shouldn't cause any problems but apparently in this case it did. This sort of panel was bound to have a keyboard Nopileos knew, but in the darkness he had a hard time locating it because it was retracted into a slot and he had never really paid much attention to obscure ship systems anyway. Finally he discovered the keyboard and pulled it out. He pressed the menu key and requested a status report; but at the very same moment he sent the order he heard a metallic, dragging sound approaching. An uncanny violet glow lit the gloom and it was coming from a chrome metal body shuffling around the transport tube.
"Rahhhhhhshhhhhh!" Nopileos screamed. He stopped working with the console and began to paddle wildly with his arms and legs. It didn't really help but it did put himself into a slow rotation around his own axis.
He had seen this metallic monster once before - on board of the burnt out Boron station, the Ceo's Pride! How could it have entered… what was it looking for… what would it…
"Do not be alarmed," a voice whispered inside Nopileos' head. "I am not a Xenon."
Did it come from that… thing over there? Nopileos' claw brushed against something, he took hold of it and stopped his rotation with a jolt.
"Not a Xenon?" he repeated disbelievingly. "What then…?"
The big machine teeming with mechanical tentacles and violet camera eyes, crawled closer to the terrified Teladi.
"We are called the Sohnen. Do not be afraid. No harm will happen to you. Ask and I will answer you. Time is scarce."
Nopileos' thoughts rushed by in a torrent and he grasped one. "Are you, do you belong to, are you a, a member of the Ancients?"
"The answer is not easy to comprehend. But let this much be said; the ones that you call the 'Ancients' are not a single people, they are many. They are the Law. But the Sohnen, we are their envoys, their limbs and their eyes to their executive authority."
"Did you establish the jump-gates?"
"Yes."
"What do you want from me? What is going to happen to me?" Nopileos desperately wanted to know. It was impossible to judge the body language of the Sohnen in any way.
"The on-board computer of this ship now contains vitally important information for the whole Commonwealth of Planets. Events that have not occurred for a quarter of a galactic rotation are imminent."
"What exactly are you talking…"
The lights came up and gravity abruptly returned. Nopileos fell to the floor and lay before the big, gleaming machine, a perfect picture of misery.
"…about?" he finished, clambering hastily to his feet.
"The Grand Plan has to be altered once again. Additional jump-gates will have to be opened and existing galactic routes will be changed. The machines that are called Xenon must not be annihilated in the forthcoming conflict. We will open a loophole for them."
"But, but… they're dangerous, they're menacing the wealth of us all!"
"They must not be annihilated completely, Teladi Isemados Sibasomos Nopileos IV! Much harm could have been avoided if you had not run away at your first meeting with the Sohnen. However, it is too late now for less than drastic methods."
After these words Nopileos felt the machines' cold presence leave his thoughts and he knew it would not speak again. The Sohnen began to fade away until it was if it had never been.
Step by step the usual noises of a functioning ship returned and Nopileos looked around. The reasserted gravity had scattered items all over the floor and he knew with the differing gravity gradients the whole yacht was probably in chaos. The cockpit dome became transparent above his head and Nopileos circled the lift tube but wasn't able to detect the floating disc anywhere to take him upwards. Finally he found an emergency ladder that didn't afford him much of a grip due to his broad claws. Maybe it was time to pare them back once again? Well, that didn't matter right now. He clambered awkwardly back up to the control centre.
"Inanias!" he shouted, and flopped thankfully into the pilot's chair. "Are you there?"
"I am here, Captain. My memory capacity is operating at a level of more than ninety-eight percent full. Shall I delete some data?"
"No!" Nopileos shouted quickly. "Don't delete any data, no matter what happens! Understood?"
"Yes, Captain. Shall I re-establish the original flight path to Argon Prime?"
"I… just a moment."
Nopileos opened his eyes wide in thought. Wasn't he duty bound to pass forward the information of the Ancients, in particular the Sohnen, to the Ceo alone? Certainly, from a profit orientated point of view. But the Sohnen had told him in plain terms that the information was of significance to the whole Commonwealth of Planets. Whom could he trust most to really provide all races with all the data? His own people? Well, he trusted in his grandfather, the Ceo – at least up to a specific certain point. But the Board of Directors would also have a say. Therefore, no. The Argon? Well, maybe, but he also wasn't really sure about them. The Split or Paranid? For the last time, no!
That just left the Boron. The friendly, level-headed Boron nation would deal in the most appropriate way with the information inside Inanias' memory banks. Well, thus it would be. He would fly to Argon Prime first to bring Elena's affairs to a conclusion – and he would keep the incident with the ship of the Sohnen a secret for good reason. After that he would push along to Kingdom End and the long overdue rendezvous with the Boron.
But why didn't the Sohnen contact the Boron right away – or similarly all nations of the Commonwealth? Nopileos turned his claws upwards. Foreign nations, foreign conventions.
CHAPTER 36
You can't escape your fate. Wherever you go, it will accompany you. It lurks in the shadows, it winks to you from the mirror. Sometimes, however, it'll smile at you. Don't fail so seize it then!
Woodran Preston
Argon philosopher
Kyle had carried the secret fear that following his arrival at the Goner Temple, he would be greeted like the Son of God, risen again. He almost expected that the holy book of the Goners, the Book of Truth, would be found to contain a convenient prophecy that could be quickly interpreted to validate the Keepers' actions. Nothing of the sort happened. Thankfully, the Book contained no prophesies or mystically-inspired litanies. It was just a chronicle of facts and insights gleaned by Martinus Sandas and Nyana Gunne a long time ago, supplemented by authentic logbook entries from Nathan Ridley Gunne, some of his contemporaries, as well as comments and annotations of the last centuries' most significant keepers. The preamble to the Book of Truth, drawn up by Fran Foster in the year 353, described the Goner Community as dedicated to the detection and conservation of the truth, and the attempt to find a way of reuniting with Earth, without endangering the lost siblings on the blue planet.
Ninu had read Kyle long passages from the book and commented on them. His questions concerning the history and formation of the Goner Community, the Commonwealth of Planets and the coexistence of the different peoples had been deep and exhausting. However after some long nights of in-depth discourse, he knew enough to seriously discuss interstellar politics.
When the Aladna Hill reached the Temple, Brennan disembarked with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Despite the Goners' apparently sobriety in his presence, he must have been something extraordinary to them – a visitor from Earth, at last!
And that's how it was. Kyle left the docking tunnel with Lona Brant and Hal Nedrong, while Ninu Gardna and Veithman Wolsh supervised the unloading of the 'cargo' - the X. It looked to Kyle like some hundred men, women and children crowded the Temple docking bay. They just stood there, thunderstruck, some of them gazing at him with open mouths, as if he were some form of sacred cow. When Kyle walked towards the crowd, they shied away, forming a path through which an elderly man w
ith white hair walked. Kyle, Brant and Nedrong stopped and waited until the old man reached them.
"This is Supreme Keeper Noah Gaffelt," Lona whispered to Kyle. He nodded, noting that even Lona showed the man great respect, although she wasn't a member of the Goner Community.
"So the day isn't far any longer," the old man exclaimed as he approached the small group from the Aladna. He regarded Kyle with wide, hopeful eyes. "Be welcome, my friend from Earth, be welcome in the Commonwealth of Planets and here with us Goners!"
Kyle took the presented hand and cordially bowed. "Thanks a lot, Keeper Gaffelt," he said. He was glad he had asked Ninu about the correct protocol, although the Goners didn't attach great importance to formalities – a characteristic he quite appreciated.
"My Argon friends," Gaffelt addressed Lona Brant and Hal Nedrong now. "You've risked much to rescue this man and his message from danger. Be assured that you've done well. We are in your debt."
The old man then turned towards the crowd.
"My community – friends and comrades in times of need. The moment is approaching that we will be able to catch sight of the planet of our forefathers again. Some of you will surely set foot on Earth."
Kyle didn't let himself be carried away by the Supreme Keepers' confident tone. The Goner might wish it were true, but wishes wouldn't move mountains, at least not mountains made of steel from one star system to another.
"May I beg a few words of address from our guest and ambassador of hope?"
"What… me?" Kyle asked, taken by surprise. The Keeper looked at him, radiant with joy. "It would be a great honour and pleasure for us!"
Kyle didn't like to be assigned a role he felt unsuited for but didn't complain. These people had rescued him and in the process earned more than a few kind words. He cleared his throat and took Gisbert's morphing toy from a leg pocket. "Earth." He said quietly and let the sphere go. It floated to the level of his face and adopted the guise of his native planet. The crowd gasped amazed 'Ahs' and 'Oohs.' Noah Gaffelt stared at the wonderful, slowly rotating sphere in unfeigned, open-mouthed fascination.
"I am Captain Kyle William Brennan from Earth," Kyle began. "It was my mission to test a prototype of a new kind of space ship. Without using any jump-gates, it was supposed to move several light-months into space and return immediately. If it had happened that way, I wouldn't be standing here in front of you." He let his gaze wander through the crowd breathlessly waiting on every word from his lips. At the front was a boy; no more than ten or twelve, looking at him with devout, adoring eyes.
"Instead, in a few years time, some other people would have arrived – people better qualified than me to make contact with new people and explore new civilisations. I'm just an astronaut, a warrior – a test pilot."
He stepped back and pointed at the still rotating globe. "Through all the centuries a bond stronger than life itself has kept our peoples together. This tie was born of the Goner Community. I've learned that you never let the gap in time between contact from humans here, and humans on this blue planet here, become an unbridgeable chasm. Therefore the credit belongs not to me, Earth or Argon Prime, but to you all!"
Kyle looked again at the crowd, astonished how easily the words came to his lips and how deeply moved the assembled Goners were, their faces radiating a joy that engulfed him like a wave.
From the corner of his eyes he saw Ninu and Veithman exit the docking tunnel and approach.
"I have the same objective as the Goners," Kyle concluded, "to find a way back to Earth. It won't be easy and it is written between the stars – literally. But as the Supreme Keeper has already said – the moment will arrive. Thank you!"
The crowd worked itself into frenzy. "Earth, Earth!" some people shouted, others "Brennan, Brennan!"
He smiled. He had been the centre of cheers of joy and jubilation before – with that, he could easily deal.
A single child's voice cut high and distinct through the cacophony. "Ninu!" It was the young boy from the front row and he was running towards the taller woman disembarking from the Aladna. "Ion!" Ninu shouted joyfully. The boy's first impulse was to embrace her, but casting a reverential glance at Kyle, he changed his mind and shook her hand with solemn adult dignity.
Ninu laughed. "Come on, my big man," she said, blinking and hugging him. The boy put up just a token of resistance. "Kyle, this is Keeper Ion Battler," she grinned.
"I'm not a Keeper," the boy protested, "Not yet."
"My pleasure to meet you Keeper Battler," Kyle said and extended his hand. Ion shook it tentatively.
"Mine too, Captain Brennan from Earth," he answered seriously. "I would have been honoured to have joined my sister Ninu on the Aladna Hill for your rescue. Was it really so dangerous?"
"What your sister and the rest of the crew did was a daring feat. It was extremely dangerous." Kyle answered.
"Will you tell me all about it? I want to write it all down. Please?" he asked, looking at both the pilot from Earth and his adoptive sister.
"Sure," Kyle agreed. He liked the boy; he was bright and intensely curious.
"Miss Gardna." The Supreme Keeper appeared at Ninu's side and put a hand on her shoulder. "Your mother's health has deteriorated again. We had to send her to a specialised hospital on Argon Prime the day before yesterday."
Ninu blanched and swallowed hard. "We knew this would happen." she whispered, all colour drained from her lips and cheeks, an expression clouded her features as if she had been punched in the guts by a long telegraphed blow. Kyle offered his arm; she clung to it like a drowning woman clinging to a piece of flotsam. Ninu had told him about Keeper Norma Gardna and the protracted and incurable disease that was dragging her inexorably down towards her death.
Captain Lona Brant overheard the short exchange and touched Ninu's arm, concerned. "Fly to Argon Prime with Ion, she will need you now more than ever before. The Aladna will just have to manage without you for the time being, my dear."
"Thank you Lona," Ninu nodded.
"Captain Brant," Noah Gaffelt said, seemingly summoned from the throng by the word 'Aladna.' "I have a small wish to take undue advantage of your helpfulness if your current orders permit."
"You want my ship to deliver Brennan and his ship to Argon Prime, don't you??"
"Exactly. In two or three tazuras. Payment will be, well…"
"You're making me rich Keeper Gaffelt." Brant said with a ghost of a smile.
"Argon government funds don't hurt when spending," Gaffelt answered with a bow and a smile.
"I anticipated as much and kept our schedule free for the next three wozuras."
"Excellent!" the old man nodded. "We have a deal then. It is a privilege working with you Captain."
Confused at the mention of government funding of an operation he understood had been carried out exclusively by the Goners Kyle turned to the Supreme Keeper and asked for an explanation.
"We had to abandon the government's plan," Gaffelt explained, "and come up with something to meet the changing circumstances. But we continue to rejoice in Senator Gunnar's full support."
He then turned to the Aladna crewmates. "Ladies and gentleman, perhaps it is time for us to retire to a more comfortable place than the docking bay. Captain Brennan, I'm afraid there are still many hands to be shaken today."
"No problem." Kyle answered and plucked the morphing toy from the air.
The crowd had calmed down somewhat. Half the Goners began filtering away but the other half expectantly stood around in small groups like they were at a party. They took his pocketing of the globe as a signal the party was over and began meandering towards the exits. As Kyle and his party followed Gaffelt, the crowd parted to let them through, some of them reaching out to touch him as he passed. 'The Hero Effect' Kyle called it, something he'd come across before in his career and he knew they meant no harm. It seemed to come with the job.
Many hours later, after an exhausting but fascinating guided tour of the Temple, and several meetings wit
h the Keepers' senior officials, Kyle was happy to be in the privacy of his assigned quarters. At first he considered heading for his familiar cabin on the Aladna, but realised the hospitable Goners could have misconstrued that as a snub. Ninu accompanied him, to wish him a good night.
"How you bearing up Ninu?"
"Oh Kyle," she sighed. "I'm okay and I'm not. Norma has been ill for so long but now everything is happening at once."
"I wish I could help somehow."
"You can, you do. Just be here with me."
She embraced Kyle with more intensity than he had expected. "Good night Kyle, I'll see you tomorrow." She vanished through the door before the confused pilot could respond.
He eventually fell into a deep, dreamless sleep still feeling her arms on his shoulders.
"What a crafty brood of reptiles." Veithman Wolsh looked more surprised than upset as he brandished a fist-sized piece of equipment, wires dangling from its core. Kyle looked at him enquiringly.
"A grav-pulser - a tracking device!"
Kyle had asked the engineer to put the X through an inspection and make whatever repairs and modifications his technical expertise permitted. He went straight to the Teladi upgrades installed aboard the Phoenix.
"But that means..."
"That means the Saurians know the location of your ship Kyle. They are able to blow this at any time they please."
Ion Battler was with them on the repair deck, unobtrusively watching the two men work, intent on memorising every single detail of the Earth craft. Now he jumped to his feet.
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